Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Comoros and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Rhythm & Sound to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by June of 44. All the underground hits.
All Eric Copeland tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Anthony Braxton record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Swell Maps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scientists,
The Dirtbombs,
Aaron Thompson,
China Crisis,
Nils Olav,
Marmalade,
Lakeside,
The Smoke,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Yaz,
The Sound,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Connie Case,
The Kinks,
The Leaves,
Pagans,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Radiohead,
Audionom,
Bizarre Inc.,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Tomorrow,
The Stooges,
One Last Wish,
Metal Thangz,
The Doors,
Man Parrish,
The Misunderstood,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Brothers Johnson,
Loose Ends,
Stetsasonic,
Camouflage,
Sugar Minott,
AZ,
Roy Ayers,
Fad Gadget,
Malaria!,
Porter Ricks,
Soft Cell,
Soft Machine,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Joy Division,
Robert Görl,
Charles Mingus,
The Doobie Brothers,
Stiv Bators,
Subhumans,
Barbara Tucker,
Kayak,
the Swans,
Public Enemy,
Lebanon Hanover,
Boogie Down Productions,
Dave Gahan,
The Selecter,
Popol Vuh,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Wake,
The Angels of Light,
Motorama, Motorama, Motorama, Motorama.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.